L
literature

Little Bird

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By psyence-a-gogo   |   Watch
0 0 100 (1 Today)
Published: January 25, 2010
I feel your sure heart in my hands;
There is a terror over you.
One small squeeze
And paradise awaits.

I cocoon you between these two walls
And wait for your shrill howl
Are you not afraid?
You do not know that I am benign.

But your quivering silence
Is sound enough for me.
I never meant you any harm;
Fly like I will never know how.
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demonlogy
           remember remember                        the whispers of november -                      but wait, this isn't a revolution                                 it's not even a rebellion                            your white flag doesn't drop anything but morale                                            the one man army of nothing               staggered steps and dried tongues,                        cracked lips begging for Legion                                           for we are many                                   and the Unnamed is just many of our names                          heavy heart and lightened shoulder
© 2010 - 2019 psyence-a-gogo
.
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h
he's just not that into you
long-legged and twitching like the spiders you watch run down the drain, he doesn’t call you pretty. you remember his hands tracing the ink of your veins, but he doesn’t call you pretty. he doesn’t hold the door, and you think you’re a liar but the truth is quivering naked in your voice (we will name our children after extinct kingdoms; dead beautiful things. i will polish the dull spot in your eye that you developed after a terminal case of unnoticed living. i will never be a cure but damn it if i won’t be a diagnosis) the static of his vocal chords brings you back, martyr without a cause, he doesn&rs
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i gave my heart to a crocodile but he used it as a toothpick so i took it back and gave it to Charlie Chaplin but he kept playing the dictator so i took it back and gave it to Houdini but he'd make it disappear every morn so i took it back and gave it to the Beatles but they threw it to their lunatic fans so i took it back and gave it to my chest but it was dark and bloody in there so i took it back and gave it to You, my Unloneliness, to stuff it next to yours - i heard from your veins there's room enough for Two in your rib cage.
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demonlogy
           remember remember                        the whispers of november -                      but wait, this isn't a revolution                                 it's not even a rebellion                            your white flag doesn't drop anything but morale                                            the one man army of nothing               staggered steps and dried tongues,                        cracked lips begging for Legion                                           for we are many                                   and the Unnamed is just many of our names                          heavy heart and lightened shoulder
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